Happiness doesn't come in the post
by nanniships
Summary: From another one of terriejanes wonderful weekend challenges on tumblr. Anna catches John out dreaming a little over a mail order catalogue.


Happiness doesn't come through the post

Anna hurried towards the Servant's Hall in a haze of frustration. Everything that could possibly pop off, tear, or pick up unwanted dust had done so this evening, and she'd been behind before she had begun. And then, of course, Lady Mary was later than usual to retire, spending an extra hour with Lady Rose and Mr. Atticus, as they were due to depart tomorrow.

She shook her head as she bustled into the Servant's Hall with an apology on her lips for her husband. He had yet to yield to her encouragement to go on home to the cottage when she was unconscionably late, and she had every expectation of finding him buried in a book or sipping a last cup of tea while rocking near the fire, trying to relax the tightness around his knee.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Bates—" she began, dropping an armful of fabric on the table irritably.

John Bates startled at her sudden entry and dropped the thick magazine he'd had in his hands, his wistful expression becoming a slightly embarrassed one. Anna recognized the mail order catalogue that had been circulating through the staff - cause for many a daydream and a sharp telling off from the heads of staff.

"Anna," he said quickly. "I was starting to wonder if Lady Mary was going to keep you all night." He cast a quick look at the catalogue on the floor, and then met her eyes with a smile as his foot nudged it further under the chair.

Anna smiled at his furtive movements and walked over to the stand next to him at the table. With eyebrows raised questioningly, she bent down to retrieve the catalogue.

"I'll do that, Anna," he tried to protest.

"It's no bother. We certainly can't leave it on the floor all night. Mr. Carson is only looking for an excuse to throw it out."

"Perhaps he should then, if it's such a bother for the younger staff" John answered, hoping that the discussion about Mr. Carson might distract Anna from the catalogue itself.

"Oh he daren't," she replied with a smile, holding the catalogue firmly as John tried to take it from her hands. "Mrs. Patmore hasn't had time to look through it yet and send up her usual cry of rack and ruin over the new fangled appliances. "

John snorted in amusement and made another gentle effort to slip the catalogue from Anna's hands. "I suppose Mrs. Patmore chucking it into the fire saves the kitchen appliances from the same fate."

Anna giggled and began flipping through the catalogue, wondering if she could find what he'd ben so engrossed in.

"It's quite late," John said anxiously. "We'd best get home before we meet ourselves coming back."

"Hmmm…I haven't had a chance to look through it yet either." She looked at him mischievously. "Do you suppose we could take it with us."

John looked less than thrilled with that idea. "Better not. Someone will be looking for it first thing, I'm sure. And you won't want to spend time looking through it tonight will you? Not when it's already so late?"

"I suppose not," she relented with a smile. "And what the eye can't see, the heart won't long for."

Placing the catalogue on the table with a sigh, Anna gathered up her mending and followed her husband to the back door.

"What does your heart long for, Mrs. Bates?" John asked in a low voice, as he gently helped her on with her coat, smoothing it over her shoulders. She turned to smile up into his eyes.

"Nothing in that catalogue," she said firmly.

"Really?" he asked challengingly as they took their leave. "Nothing in there you might want?"

"Oh I'm sure there's a great deal in there I might want, Mr. Bates. There may even be some things in there we might have need of soon." She took his arm and pressed closer against him in the frosty dark. "But I have everything my heart longs for," she said, voice trembling a bit, "and I think it might just burst with happiness sometimes."

John cleared his throat to clear the sudden lump that appeared at her words and held her tighter.

"Shouldn't we tell them soon?" he asked as they made their familiar way down the track to their cottage.

"Soon," she agreed. "But not right now, John."

He was struck by the way the fitful moonlight shone on her neck as she bent her head and smiled at her thoughts. Pondering these things in her heart, he thought. Was the rustling around them the night wind through the yellowed grass, or perhaps the wings of angels? In that moment, John Bates wouldn't swear that it wasn't.

"You're right," he said softly, reluctant to break the comfortable, knowing silence. "We'll keep it to ourselves for now."

The moment passed, and Anna twisted a little next to him to look up into his face.

"Now," she said decisively, "why don't you tell me what caught your eye in that catalogue."

John gaped at her. "What? I didn't… I was only glancing through it, Anna. I'm not sure I even remember what I was looking at."

Anna watched his eyes skitter away nervously from hers and knew she was on to something. "Well that's good," she said casually. "There's no point in filling your eyes with that fancy French lingerie when I won't even be able to wear any of it for much longer—"

John stopped walking and looked at her in horror. "What?! Anna, I wasn't looking through the ladies undergarments! I wouldn't—"

"So you _do_ remember," she said, shaking her finger in his face and laughing at his response. He sputtered and glowered at her, properly caught out. "So what _was_ it, then? The motors? The bicycles? The cricket bats?" He looked askance at her, schooling his features into an expression of wounded dignity. "Go on then. Tell me."

"It was nothing, Anna," he said in a firm voice, indicating that the conversation was over. As they drew up to the cottage door, the stubborn glint in her eyes informed him that it most certainly wasn't.

"It was something you'd like, John Bates," she said as she swept past him and into the cottage. "And I'd very much like to know what it was."

John groaned. He was tired, and he knew she was. All he wanted to do was hurry off to bed with her and make her forget about that blasted catalogue.

"You're not going to let this go, are you?" he grumbled, helping her off with her coat and hanging it neatly. Her raised eyebrow and the expectant tilt of her head were all the answer he needed.

"Very well…" he began in a tone usually reserved for the Confessional. "I was looking at the wirelesses and wondering if we could ever stretch to a small one." He stole a look at her, but was unable to read anything in her expression but mild puzzlement.

"Well, what's so bad about that?" she asked gently, bringing her hand up to caress his face. "That sound like a lovely idea, even if we can't afford one right now."

"It's foolishness, Anna. A rich man's fantasy." He looked at her ruefully. " But as I was looking at them, all I could see was having one here to keep you company when you have to leave service. Something to give you some comfort, especially when I have to be gone." His voice became softer as he continued. "And I saw us dancing together here, in the parlor. I know you love to dance…."

Anna pushed up onto her tiptoes to clasp her arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer to him.

"I just want to do everything I can to ensure your happiness, Anna," he whispered into her ear. She shivered at his tickling breath. "I've failed at that so many times. I'm determined not to fail you again."

Anna laid her finger firmly on his lips. "Happiness doesn't come through the post, John. There's nothing in this world, or any catalogue, that could make me any happier than I am now, expect perhaps what we've got to look forward to." He smiled under her finger and moved his hand around to lay it on her stomach. Anna replaced her finger with her lips.

"Shouldn't we be off to bed?" he asked huskily when she broke the kiss. Her eyes twinkled and she stepped into the middle of the parlor, pulling him with her.

"I think we've got time for a quick dance, don't you Mr. Bates?"

He smiled and gathered her into his arms, swaying a bit awkwardly on the carpet.

"There's no music," he murmured as they spun slowly together.

"Oh, but there is, John," she said, laying her head on his chest and feeling his arms tighten gently around her. "Can't you hear my heart singing?"


End file.
